Silence And Fear
by sctwilightvampwolfgal
Summary: Fear holds the words back, even though Ladybug does not realize that that's why, she doesn't ask the questions that run through her mind so often now.


Sometimes it clogs her throat up: the words that she doesn't say. Ladybug finds herself at an impasse, and the one that's stopped her up just happens to be herself. It's there when green eyes turn to her, and it's there when he kisses her hand. It's there in the goosebumps that he can't see hidden underneath her suit, mercifully, regrettably.

She doubts that the words matter that much, not when she's still tossing and turning at night, trying to figure out who she loves more out of all this. It doesn't feel like a conversation to break the silence with regardless. She stands alone with her feelings, even when he looks at her, and she almost swears that their 'old games' that were never really games aren't games at all. He looks so smitten, but she's never been good being the right fit.

The wind tries to drag her thoughts away, so she lets it, focusing instead on patrol, like she was always supposed to. If his glance lasts more than a few precious seconds on her, then she'd relish it, if she felt the gaze. It's quiet tonight as no words come to her mind that seem right to say, and Cat Noir's uncharacteristically silent. Maybe, his thoughts feel almost like hers do.

Ladybug savors the sweet relief that the wind seems to provide as she leaps from rooftop to rooftop, searching for anything amiss, even the signs of an Akuma stalking the night. It has happened before, though not always does it seem to happen during patrol. Hawkmoth's schedule usually isn't convenient for anyone else, but the supervillain, himself.

She can't help but wonder if the words in her mind appear to anyone else as obviously as she feels them. Are her thoughts written all over her face or are they just a part of her restless mind, that seems to grow more restless in time. Ladybug prefers to not think so much about all of this, but still, she wonders despite herself, what being a partner really is?

* * *

It sneaks up on her. The silence that invades and remains and claws it's way in. It doesn't like to be absent from night patrols anymore. They rarely need to talk while fighting an Akuma anymore, so they don't talk much lately. Ladybug misses the sound of Cat Noir's voice, but all of the questions in her head, just like her thoughts don't seem right to voice.

'How are you?' 'Is something the matter, Chat?' 'Do you not like me anymore?' 'Have you moved on?' 'I think I love you.'

So, she says none, just wonders. If she knew what words were right, she'd say them in a heartbeat. She doesn't even begin to wonder if the reason she doesn't speak is fear. It doesn't occur that maybe she's scared of how he'll respond, just as she worries and gnaws at the thoughts that circle through her mind all day.

* * *

One day, he doesn't show up to patrol. Ladybug can't hide her disappointment, but she scours the city as if it doesn't matter that the night somehow feels colder alone. She'd never before noticed that her partner's presence kept her warm, even if they weren't talking much anymore.

Her thoughts are uncharacteristically blank tonight, beyond the worry over just why he didn't show up. Only later, will she wonder if it's her fault. The Akuma fights lately have been so easy, easy enough for her to not even think he could be hurt. Just, what if she'd somehow caused this separation, this divide, that she wasn't even aware was sneaking up on them, until it finally did?

* * *

One day becomes many days, and she wonders what happened. Was it the relative isolation during patrol, the lack of Akumas during their patrols, or general busyness that kept him away? Nights felt so lonely, that she could barely force herself to go out there.

She dreamed of the sound of his voice, but she couldn't quite tell which variation of it was the right sound or if she'd failed at remembering completely. Ladybug feels like the half of herself that isn't interwoven through with aspects of her partner slipping in. She had picked up on old habits of his a while ago, and they just never went away.

He still shown up for Akuma fights, but patrols were now extra lonely. She wonders if she'll ever say any of the words that come to mind. None of them are derogatory, none of them are angry with her partner, just confused and very, very unsure of the answers to the questions that she doesn't ask.

* * *

One day, the near silence is broken.

"I can't do this anymore!" He tells her instead of pounding his fist with hers after another Akuma was defeated.

She doesn't ask what 'this' is. Ladybug figures that it's their silence, but it could be anything. Maybe being a superhero was becoming too much for her seemingly fearless partner.

"Okay." She hates that she doesn't quite have the words to say beyond that. What if she asked him to stay, but the words just well up in her throat.

"I'm sorry, Ladybug." She realizes belatedly that the sound of his voice is so much better in person than in the dreams that remind her of it.

"You don't have to be." She isn't sure what compells her to say that, except that she doesn't blame him for any of this. He wasn't the one at fault, even though she isn't quite sure who is.

"Well, I am." It seems harsh, but when he turns away, that hurts more.

"Cat Noir," She isn't sure what she should say next, a confession, ask what's wrong, promise to speak like they used to, "I'm sorry."

"You aren't at fault." He stops like he isn't sure of those words either, but when he looks back at her. "I can handle being just your friend, but I can't handle whatever we've become. You're so distant that I'm not even sure we're friends anymore, just partners."

Somehow she marvels over how 'partners' can sound so empty now. She wishes it were full of life too.

"Y-You are my friend." Somehow she wonders if this is the time to say the words that have been on her mind for so long, but she can't quite work up the nerves to.

"Then treat me like one." It's acidic, but Ladybug understands deep down why it is so, but she isn't quite sure how to treat him like a friend anymore. Her mind races like her heart refuses to, and she doesn't know how to speak when she knows that she won't stutter and yet she can't even think straight half the time around him.

"I don't know how to." It slips out before she can stop it, and it looks like Cat Noir has been slapped with how he startles away from her. It came out wrong; she doesn't think of him as less than a friend, and it isn't quite the more that she'd imagined it to be. It's just different as if she just wants to cling to him in a way and yet isn't quite sure how to define the feeling in her chest anymore. It isn't over the moon like it has been with Adrien, and it isn't Alya-level of comfort either.

It's like her feelings have been put into a mixer, and somehow came out in a weird, discombobulated way that somehow lets her know that being friends is lovely, but there is one thing maybe lovelier to be with Cat Noir, but the words don't come with solid images or shapes. She's afraid of what she'll see if she falls like she has for Adrien, and yet she's more aware that she doesn't want any imagining, just plans, together.

"Then, I guess this is goodbye." He looks worn out, maybe his feelings got all jumbled up too.

"That's not what I meant." Ladybug tries to find words to say that will explain it, but all that comes out is, "I love you." It doesn't seem right at the moment, and she isn't sure quite what it sounds like.

"I love you too." Cat Noir sighs, and it seems to flow through all of him in an instant, "You meant as a friend, right?" It isn't really a question, so she doesn't answer it. The answer is bigger than she is, and she isn't quite sure that she can live up to answering it anyway.

'Will you stay?' rushes to mind, but Ladybug feels much less like her superhero self with that question in her mind than she feels comfortable with showing.

"Are you still leaving?" Ladybug asks instead. It's less personal and takes all of the focus away from herself. It's easier, and she doesn't fear this question, though it feels unusually cold for a normal day in Paris.

"I might." Cat Noir stops as if to assess the situation now that it's out in the air, but he doesn't say anything besides that. It's like he's given her the court or maybe he really is debating the merits and the not so great parts about leaving now and not returning to her side.

"I'd leave too." Ladybug isn't quite sure why she says it, just that somehow she feels like Marinette at just the thought of him leaving. Ladybug's not Ladybug without Cat Noir, and she doesn't see the appeal in fighting crime without her beloved partner by her side.

"Paris would need new superheroes then."

Somehow it feels just like any other conversation, except there's this sudden edge to it, "Would Master Fu mind the new search? Should we recruit Rena Rouge and Carapace full time?" They'd be able to handle it, but to stop being Ladybug now after so odd scares her, and she hopes that she never has to make that choice.

"Maybe." Cat Noir sits down, and it feels like quitting. She almost doesn't join him, but thinks better about it.

She lets it go silent, even though she knows that that's what has gotten in their way lately. Ladybug leans on Cat Noir's side and hopes that today isn't the last day for something simple like this.


End file.
